Games We Play
by Karevsanatomy
Summary: Series of One Shot Fillers from Season One. NC17Harsh language, strong sexual content
1. Just A Girl In A Bar

Meredith Grey knew from the time she was fifeteen years old, and lost her virginty to a hot intern named Steve, that she was a dirty girl. Maybe she came by it naturally. After all, her mother had enjoyed playing "doctor" with men who were not Thatcher Grey, or Richard Webber. Whatever the case may be, she was dirty. While this knowledge might bother another woman, Meredith embraced it. Why deny who she was? Why deny herself?

The man sitting at the end of the bar was exactly the sort of man who enjoyed the games she played. Dark hair, piercing blue eyes, and a smile that broke hearts. He wouldn't break her's. She had learned a long time ago to keep her heart out of the game. Emotions only got in the way of physical pleasure. 

Sliding onto the bar stool next to his, she plotted out the best way to engage him. Men like him liked to think they were in control. Good ole hard to get. That was the way he needed to play. The red shirt wasn't new, and while some might think him a Seattle native, she had heard him ask the bartender for a drink. She knew that accent. East Coast, probley New York. Even better. An out of towner.

"Shot of tequila," she calls to the bartender. Joe, his name tag read.

"Aren't you a brave one. Shooting tequila. Alone. In a bar." The man liked to tease. Perfect. She was an expert tease.

"Straight up?" the bartender asked, the bottle poised over a shot glass.

Meredith smiles. "Of course." Straight up and hard. Just the way she liked her liquor; just the way she liked her men.

"You're going to get drunk, you realize that, don't you?" The man had shifted closer. She could smell his expensive cologne. The sense of smell was a beautiful thing. Take the way this man smelled, for instance. Something about the mixture of his cologne, aftershave, and person was making her hot. Achey and wet even.

"That's the plan." She gingerly picks the shot glass up. Counting to three, she tilts her head back and lets the firey liquid slide down her throat. The ache grew worse. As did the dampness of her barely there black lace thong. "Pour me another one, Joe. Leave the bottle this time." 

"So. You want to get drunk. Someone is going to take advantage of you, you know that, right?" He leaned a bit closer. She could feel his hot breath on her neck. God, he was making her horny. He had best not be the sort of man who liked to tease, then leave. She wasn't in the mood to go home and take matters in her own hands. Even a high dollar vibrator couldn't replace a nice, hard dick.

"Someone being you?" She lets another shot of tequila run down her throat. The fire in her belly grew hotter with each shot.

"Me? No. I'm just some guy in a bar. New to Seattle, really. Moved here from New York. You?" She had been right. A person's manner of speech gave it away every time.

"I'm just a girl in a bar," she replies back. She wasn't big on personal information. It was better when there were no strings attached.

"Ah. I see." He was getting closer now. She could feel the heat from his body. "So, Just A Girl In A Bar, what would you say, if admitted to wanting to take advantage?"

"Hm. I would say that I figured that out five minutes ago," She licks a bit of tequila from her lips. "The thing is, you can't take advantage."

His face fell. "Oh. Isee. I'm sorry." He grabs his jacket from the stool on his other side. A buttery soft brown leather one. "Thank you for the company. Joe, if you would put the lady's drink on my tab..."

Meredith laughs, sliding off the stool. "You can't take advantage of someone who is willing," she breaths in his ear. Her body was pressed against the side of his. She rubs against him a bit, before walking out of the bar. He would follow. The men always did. There wasn't a man alive who didn't like to play her game.

Derek Shepherd wasn't known for picking women up in bars. That was more his best friend Mark's forte. Mark. Now there was a mood killer. He pushes his former best friend from his thoughts. Mark was in New York, he was in Seattle, with a sexy woman who was hot and more than ready. She was practically begging him for it. If he was to slip his fingers into her panties, he knew what he would find. Sticky wetness. Just thinking about it made him harder.

He wasn't sure how they got to the house, just that the moment they walked in the door her hands were down his pants. Her tiny fingers wrapped around the velvety smoothness of his penis, her mouth met his in a hard, passion filled kiss. He gave into the urge, he slipped his fingers in, finding exactly what he had wanted to find. She moaned as he inserted one finger, then two. " You like that, baby?" He nips her neck. 

"Mmhhhm," she purrs, unzipping his pants. She grabs his hand. Reluctantly, he removes his fingers from the warm, wetness of her body. "You have something, right?" She unbuttons his shirt. There would be no games. She knew what she wanted. Good. He wanted the same thing. To bury himself in her body. To forget the rest of the world, specifically New York.

"Wallet," He growls, tugging her black dress down. The sound of fabric ripping fills the air. If she was angry about the dress, she didn't say so. In fact, his aggressiveness seemed to excite her further.

"Hm. Typical," she murmurs, fumbling with his wallet. She doesn't dig through it, not the way some women would. Instead, she finds what she is looking for. She tears it open, then pulls his pants down. Rolling the condom onto the length of him, she grins. She backs away a bit, eyeing his manhood. "Impressive."

"You think?" Grabbing her by the waist, he backs her against a nearby wall. Lifting her petite body in his arms, he pushes the panties aside with one finger. He enters her in one smooth thrust. She lets out a triumphant moan. Her legs tighten around his waist, drawing him in deeper. He thrusts harder. Her nails dig into his back. 

Meredith could feel it coming. That tightening of her insides, the pressure building. When the orgasm hit her, it hit hard. She could feel the man coming with her. Their shouts of release echoed in her mother's empty house. 'Place needed a good christening,' she thought smugly. Her legs drop to the floor. "I was right. Impressive," she slides to the floor, laughing. God, the man knew how to fuck. Too bad it was just for tonight. She could get use to being fucked like that every night.

"I aim to please," he replies, joining her on the floor. She hands him a tissue to remove the condom with. 

"Really? You aim to please?" She could believe that. He had let her finish first. Not many men were that considerate.

"Yes. My mother alway said to never disappoint a lady," he tosses the tissue and used condom into a nearby fastfood bag that was full of trash. "Healthy eater, I see."

"What can I say, I have a healthy appetite," she murmered, stroking her fingers over his semi-hard penis. It wasn't long before he was ready to go again. She starts to straddle him, he stops her."What? Going back on your Aim to please motto?"  
"Hm. No. We're missing...Ah. Yes. That," he smiles when she waves a small silver package in front of him. He takes it from her, quickly gloving himself.

"I'm a safety kind of gal," she whisphers in his ear. She positions herself over him, slowly encasing him in her warmth. He groans his pleasure. A smug grin forms across her mouth. She sets the pace slow, rising up, then lowering just a bit, never giving him the full satisfaction of actual penetration.

"You're not playing fair," he grits his teeth, grabbing her hips. He thrusts deep and hard, then pulls out.

"Hey," she cries as he flips her onto her back. He grabs her wrists, pinning them over her head. She pants, waiting with anticipation. He seemed intent on teasing her the way she had him. Letting the tip enter, nothing more. She lifts her hips, trying to take more of him in. "Please," she begs.

Derek could barely hold back. That whimpery please was his undoing. He slams into her, repeatedly. She cries out. Partially in pain, partially in pleasure. The anger over New York comes back, bringing with it a forceful side he had thought gone. He releases her hands, grabbing her hips. He raises her up a bit, the angle giving him better access. She grinds against him.

"Oh God," she cries. He could feel her coming. He thrusts harder, faster. She started out whimpering, then almost screamed her release. He buries his face in her neck, holding on tight. To hold onto to her forever. It was a nice thought. One he had no business thinking. He thought it anyways. Laying there, his body still joined with her's, he allowed himself to imagine what it would be like to never let go. 

Meredith couldn't help but feel a sense of sadness. It had been hard, leaving this morning. He had said his name was Derek. This was during their ackward morning after chat. Sighing, she brushes her hair back off her face. First days were hard enough without mooning over a one night stand. Besides, if the Nazi seen her looking weak it would all be over. And she had to find one Dr. Shepherd, neurosurgeon extraodanaire. Hopefully he could do something for Katie's nasty attitude while he fixed her seizure problem. She stops in her tracks as a familiar dark head lifted. Oh God. Derek. Her Derek was here. Wearing a name badge and a lab coat. Mother fucker. She stares in horror as he came closer. The moment his name tag became clear, she realized he was Dr. Shepherd, neurosurgeon extraodanaire. The game she had thought over, was just in fact begining...

The End...  
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	2. If The Car Is Rocking

-1There was nothing like a nice bottle of tequila to keep a girl company. After the day Meredith had had, she needed it. The details were fuzzy on why she was in such a pissed off mood. She was clear on two things, though. She was kicking Izzie's ass when she found her, and she needed to get laid. It had been too long between men. There hadn't been anyone since that mind blowing night with Derek. Taking her nearly empty bottle of tequila with her, she steps out onto the porch. The air was a bit chilly, making her nipples pucker. "Great," she mutters. "Getting hot and bothered by the weather." She lifts the bottle to her mouth, taking a long swallow of the fiery liquid. Her face wrinkles up as it hits her empty stomach. "Mother fucker," she curses as another car pulls up, the head lights blinding her. The driver opens the door, leaning against it.

"You had a party. Didn't invite me. I'm wounded," Derek teased, mock indignation laced in his tone. He grins at her. Smug bastard. He knew she wanted him. Hell, half the hospital wanted him. She squirms around a bit, feeling herself grow wet.

"Izzie had a party," she corrected, stumbling down the steps toward him. He catches her before she can fall into the rose bush. "Thanks. I think," she breaths. His hands linger on her sides, the pads of each thumb stroking the sides of her breast. She whines a bit. "Stop. If you don't, I'm going to do something I shouldn't."

"Oh?" Derek moves both hands up to cup her small breasts. Perfect size for his hands. "And what would that be, Dr. Grey?"

She moans, letting her head fall back a bit as his mouth slowly suckles on the sensitive skin covering her pulse. "I..I don't know...but...I shouldn't...we shouldn't..."

"Really? We should do what? This?" He slides his hands down to her butt, pressing her against his erection. He grinds his hips a bit. "Or maybe this?" He rubs his hand against her damp womanhood making her moan. 

"Yeah...that..." she pants. They hadn't done anything, yet she could feel herself coming, just thinking about the ways he would pleasure her. He presses against her damp slit harder. "Ohhh God. We...we...God!" She lets the bottle of tequila fall to the ground, vaguely aware of the sound of glass breaking. "I need you, Derek. I need you now," she begs, her fingers twisting in his shirt.

The damn compact they had talked him into at the rental agency wasn't the best place to fuck an intern. Derek chuckles a bit at the thought. Straight laced Derek Shepherd was fucking one of his interns in a car while coworkers partied it up a few feet away. It took some bending and some fancy maneuvers, but he managed to get her pants off. The moment the condom covered his dick, she slid her wetness onto him, moaning her pleasure. "You feel sooooo good," she giggles, rocking her hips.

"So do you," he murmur. He takes her hips in his hands, grinding her against him, harder. She moans, pushing her hair off her face. "I can't get you out of my head. This is all I think about. Fucking you."

The laugh she lets out slowly turns to a moan. "Same here...not good for the patients...thinking about fucking...when...when...they...they...fuck!" She grabs chunks of his hair, clenching her fists, as she rides him harder.

"Oh God, baby," he groans, blinking as head lights momentarily blind him. The driver and passenger had most likely gotten a show. He didn't care. All he cared about was pumping himself into her soft, wet body. He shouts his release, not caring if anyone heard him. 

"Wow," she smiles at him, then giggles.

Derek grins back at her, brushing her hair off her face. He reaches for his white dress shirt, wrapping it around her. "Wow doesn't even cover it."

"We shouldn't have done that, you know," she says, sliding her arms into the sleeves. He closes the front gap, then pulls her face down for a kiss. She deepens it, rocking her hips against him. "I'm glad we did, though."

They both jump when someone knocks on the window of the car. Bailey stares back at them. "You're blocking me in," she snaps.

"Oh God," Meredith groans, leaning her head against his. Her night was officially a disaster 


	3. What Exam Rooms Are Really Used For

-1Porn stars had nothing on surgeons. There was just something erotic about understanding the exact science of how the body gained it's pleasure. Although, Meredith was almost certain that this was not what her Anatomy teacher had had in mind when they were discussing the different functions of the body's sexual organs, and the various other stimuli throughout the body. Such as the lower back. There was nothing sexy about the lower back. Until fingers gently brush across it, the way Derek's were brushing across her's, sending shivers throughout her body. He danced lazy circles making her whimper. "Shhh," he murmurs, pressing her stomach against the cold counter of an exam room. One of the curtained off exam rooms in the Pit. She bits her lip as he raises her scrub top, and the purple t-shirt under it, up a bit more. She makes small cry in the back of her throat as his tongue replaced his fingers. She grips the edge of the counter, sucking her lips in to muffle her pants. He traced each one of her vertebrae with the tip of tongue, breathing on the wet skin when he was done. It was the breathing that did her in, that made her semi-damp womanhood grow wet. Her eyes close, she tries to regulate her breathing. Not that it would do any good. The moment she thought she had things under control, she could feel her scrub pants sliding down.

"Derek," she whispers, trying to turn around. He pins her against the counter, her back still toward him. Her body rejoices when she feels the velvety soft skin of his penis brushing her bare backside. She can hear him opening a condom wrapper, feels the softness replaced with warm rubber. Her pants grow faster, as she waits, body tense.

Derek slides a finger into her. He had known she would be wet. He had done it to torture her. Her knuckles turn white as she grips the counter tighter. A smug smile lifts his mouth. "Remember," he breaths in her ear, "You can't make a sound." It was cruel. Asking that of her. Meredith was very vocal about pleasure and release. He cups his free hand over her mouth, then uses his body to urge her over more on the counter. It wasn't a comfortable position, it was most likely digging into her stomach. That couldn't be helped. Urging her legs apart a bit more, he positions himself at the opening to her womanhood. With one forceful thrust, he enters her. Her cry is muffled by his hand. He thrusts harder and harder, gritting his teeth to keep from crying out his release. He rests against her back, still inside her. "One word," he breathes in her ear. "Wow." She nods her agreement. The sound of an ambulance siren causes them to scramble to adjust their clothing. 


	4. Dirty Mistress

-1 

Women who slept with their bosses where known as dirty whores. It didn't matter what the reason was. Getting ahead, or just because it felt so damn good to be fucked on the photocopy machine. Women who slept with their bosses where dirty whores. It was a mindset that never changed. It was fear of being labeled a dirty whore that had made Meredith ask questions. She could handle being called a dirty whore if she knew whose dirty whore she was. And, there was quite a bit she didn't know about Derek Shepherd. So, she had demanded answers.

Which was how she had ended up in the middle of nowhere, outside a trailer that looked like something her grandfather use to pull behind his old beat up Chevy on his fishing trips. She was cold, wet, and tired. Yet, there she stood, listening to him give her answers. Sisters, no brothers. Irish mother. Dead father. A slight mist had covered them both with a sheen a moisture, causing a lock of his hair to fall across his face. He looked so endearing, so sweet. She smiles, reaching out her hand. Together, they walk toward the Streamline trailer, neither saying much.

Closing the door behind them, Meredith turns to face him. She brushes the lock of hair from his face. "Thank you," she says softly.

"For what?' Derek asks, catching the hand that had just brushed his hair back. He kisses the soft palm. A surgeons hands were always soft. They had to be. He nips a bit on the skin between her thumb and forefinger. 

"For caring enough to tell me the truth." She smiles, taking her hand from him. She pushes his red quilted vest off, letting it drop to the floor. "For not just being another guy after a piece of ass." She starts unbuttoning the red plaid shirt he had on under the vest. Once his chest is exposed she presses small butterfly kisses across the warm, tanned skin. She takes one of his pebble hard nipples between her teeth, nipping lightly. He shrugs out of the shirt. She kisses her way up his throat. "Just...thank you for being you."

This was the first time Derek had allowed himself to think of New York, of Mark and Addison; Addison in particular. A man didn't like thinking of his wife while he was with another woman. It had been the honesty thing. When she had thanked him for caring enough to tell the truth. If he was a stronger man, he would stop her. He would stop her and tell her that he was married. Explain about finding his wife in bed with his best friend. He wasn't stronger, though. Not when she was so near. He buries his fingers in her silky hair, tilting her head back. He catches her mouth with his, kissing her with all the pent up emotion he had coursing through him. Her arms twine up around his neck, her fingers lock at the base of his skull.

"It's I should be thanking you," he murmurs against her mouth. "Before you, I was drowning. Life was sucking me under...and you...you were the air I needed. You made me feel alive again. So, it is I who should be thanking you." She stares up at him, smiling. Her eyes were so full of trust. She was falling for him, he could see it. His spirit soars. Good. He was falling for her as well. He needed to tell her the truth, though. He starts to say something, but she presses her fingers against his mouth.

"You make me feel alive, too," she says softly. She steps away from him, blinking slightly, a sweet smile on her face. One by one, she undoes the wooden buttons holding her cream colored sweater closed. As they come undone, a pale pink blouse is revealed. The sweater drops to the floor. Reaching down, she tugs her heels off, tossing them to the side. "You make me feel like I'm special. Like I'm not just a girl in a bar." With shaking fingers, she plucks at the pearl buttons running the length of her short sleeved blouse. She lets it fall off her shoulders, her soft white skin taking on a luminous glow in the soft light illuminating from the lamp he had left on. Slowly, the blouse slides to the floor. "Nobody's ever made me feel special before." Looking down, she unsnaps her jeans, then shimmies out of them. They, too, are tossed to the side. She stands there, wearing only a light blue lace bra and matching panties, a shaky smile on her face.

Meredith could feel her heart pounding. This was the first time she had ever undressed for a man. Usually her clothes came off in a rushed race to the bed, or where ever they were going to have sex. It wasn't easy. Standing there in her underwear, waiting for him to do something, to say something.

"You are so so special, Meredith, don't ever let someone tell you otherwise," he says softly. He pulls her close. Instead of the kiss or the usual groping, he just holds her close. His arms tighten around her, his cheek lay against the top of her head. She lifts her arms, wrapping them around his waist. He kisses the top of her head. "You are special. You...you are not just a girl in a bar." He pushes her back far enough to look down at her. "Don't ever think that about yourself. No. no matter what...don't ever think that you are not special, because you are." He kisses her, so soft and gentle. His hands settle on her waist, then he lifts her, carrying her to the unmade bed. She laughs as they fall back on the bed. "Well, that was impressive," he chuckles.

"It was," she insists. "Really. It was." She smiles up at him, cupping his cheek in her hand. She tugs his face down for a kiss. Their tongues mate as her hands make fast work of his jeans. It didn't take long for them both to be nude. She loved the feel of his warm skin against her's, their two hearts beating as one. He moves away long enough to sheath himself in a condom, before settling over her again. With their eyes connected, he enters her, slowly. She tightens the hold she has on his shoulders, her eyes still locked with his. It wasn't like the other times, where they couldn't get there fast enough. This time it was about the closeness, about being connected. This time was also the first time Meredith had ever made love to a man. She'd had sex more times than she remembered, but had never once made love. Until tonight.

Derek held her in his arms, savoring the feel of her body cuddled up next to his. He had made the decision. They had to talk. He could put it off, but there really was no point. Sighing, he places a kiss on her forehead. "I meant everything I said."

"I know," Meredith smiles, cuddling closer. Her breath tickled his ear.

"When I was telling you about my family...about...about who I am...I forgot something. Someone..." he pauses. "No. Not forgot...I intentionally didn't tell you because I knew...I knew you would...I can't lose you, Meredith. You mean the world to me."

Meredith lifts her head up, a slight frown marring her face. "You mean a lot to me, too." There was confusion in her voice. She props her head up with her hand. "Whatever it is...you can tell me...I'll understand. Unless you have a wife," she teases. "Then I might have to kick your ass." He looks away. She frowns, sitting up. She drags a sheet up over her naked breasts. "Oh God...you...you don't have a wife and kids do you? I mean...I'm...I'm not really a dirty whore, am I? A dirty home wrecking whore?"

"You are not a whore Meredith...and...you didn't wreck my marriage," Derek snaps. 'She shouldn't talk about herself that way' he thinks angrily. She wasn't either of those things. She was smart, beautiful. She made his world a better place. Hell, the world in general was a better place because she was in it.

"Oh my God! Derek!" She cries, backing away from him a bit. Hurt and tears blurred her eyes. Her lower lip trembled. She wraps her arms around her waist, not caring that the sheet had fallen.

"Just...listen. Please. That's all I am asking. That you listen," he pleads. She wanted to run. He could see it in her eyes. She wanted to grab her clothes and run. "Just...listen. No lies. Nothing held back. Please." 

This wasn't happening. This couldn't be happening. Meredith fights to remain calm. She had found the man of her dreams. Her McDreamy. Only, he wasn't her McDreamy. He belonged to a Mrs., who was in New York. "Five minutes. You...you have five minutes!" She scoots off the bed, standing on trembling legs.

"She cheated on me, Meredith. I came home. Found her in bed with my best friend. My best friend. In my bed. Which had my favorite flannel sheets on it, by the way," he sighs. He wraps the sheet around his waist, following her the mere two feet to the living/kitchen area. She was pulling her clothes on. "What are you doing?"

Meredith doesn't look at him. She couldn't. If she did, she would cave. "What does it look like I am doing?" Her blouse was still damp. It was cold against her skin. She shivers.

"It looks like you're getting ready to run. Did you hear a word I just said?" Derek stands in front of the door. Like hell he was letting her run. 

"Your wife fucked your best friend on a pair of fucking flannel sheets. Which, is sad. Really. It is. Wanna know what's even sadder? You. Being more upset about the sheets. That's what's sad." She picks her sweater up, and slides her shoes on. "Move." 

"No. My five minutes aren't up yet," he snaps.

She crosses her arms, not caring that the cold, wet sweater was seeping through her blouse. "Fine. Take your fucking five minutes! I don't care.! Nothing you say is going to matter. You lied to me. You lied! So...take your five minutes...do your best...it isn't going to fix things!"  
"I never lied to you, Meredith. Omitted some of the truth, yes. Lied, no. I'm not going back to her," he states firmly.

She laughs. "Right. That's what they all say." 

"I'm not other guys. I meant what I said. I'm not going back. You're right. I was more upset about the sheets than her actually cheating. Do you know why? I fell out of love with her. I'm not sure when it happened. Hell, I'm not even sure I ever loved her to begin with. Not the way she deserved. All I know is...I...I am not going back because...dammit...I think I'm falling in love with you! And we owe it to ourselves to find out!"

Meredith stares at him, stunned. She didn't know what to think, what to feel. She looks at the floor, tears running down her cheeks. "How can I ever trust you again?"

Derek tentatively takes her in his arms, pressing her head against his shoulders. "I don't know. You just have to make that choice, I suppose."

She stands there for a moment, her head on his shoulder, breathing slowly. 'He didn't have to tell you,' she tells herself silently. 'He could have kept it a secret. Let his wife show up one day, and then be like, oh here's my wife. He didn't do that though. He told you.' She lifts her head, stares at him for a moment. "My choice?" He nods. "And...and no matter what you'll respect it?" He nods again. She steps away from him, unbuttoning her blouse.

"What are you doing?" he asks, a slight frown on his face.

"I'm cold and I'm wet. Not to mention, finding out my boyfriend has a wife is a bit exhausting. I'm going to bed," she sniffs, shoving her pants down. She trips a bit kicking them and her shoes off. 

"You're staying?" He seemed amazed.

"Yes. Just...one thing...No. Wait. Two really." She moves toward the bed, yawning.

"Anything." He would move the heavens and the earth for her.

"I sleep on the right side of the bed, not the left...and...I'm only willing to be a dirty mistress on a temporary basis, so you better find a good divorce lawyer!" 


End file.
